


Snowed In

by Salambo06, WhatIfIAmInsane



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Army Doctor John, Blow Jobs, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Christmas Eve, M/M, One Night Stands, Smut, Unilock, Winter Holidays Challenge - TUJC Challenge 1, case (in the background)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-03 01:59:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5272319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salambo06/pseuds/Salambo06, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatIfIAmInsane/pseuds/WhatIfIAmInsane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock had everything planned out for months now. Today he would finally put an end to this case. Even if that meant keeping an eye on his suspect in a crowded, german airport on Christmas Eve.</p><p>The same crowded airport John was waiting in for his final flight back home from his first deployment to Afghanistan, not at all thrilled by the prospect of spending Christmas with his possibly drunk sister. Although the airport was stuffed to the brim with holiday travelers and tacky decorations, he was enjoying his time alone, mostly.</p><p>But then, snow began to fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Christmas traveler’s nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> This fiction is a collaboration between [Salambo06](http://letthechoirsing.tumblr.com/) as Sherlock's voice and [WhatIfIamInsane](http://whatifiaminsane.tumblr.com//) as John's. We hope you'll enjoy it :)

John groaned softly and stretched out his feet. The hours spent in the military airplane from Kandahar to Frankfurt really hadn’t been easy on the muscles in his neck. An ache was slowly but surely manifesting itself just a bit to the right of his spine. With a few rolling motions he tried to keep it at bay as he sat down on one of the spots next to the gate his flight home would be leaving from. His big military backpack had to be checked in but even with just a small bag and his fatigues on, he pulled every passenger’s attention towards himself. 

Leaning back in the hard airport chair, he closed his eyes for a moment. Doctor John Watson, 25 years old, trained surgeon, at the moment stationed in Kandahar, Afghanistan with the British Army, and currently on his way home to London for Christmas. He had to smile softly thinking about how he had already managed to survive his first months in deployment. It was a lot different from what he initially had imagined it being but then you couldn’t really imagine the immense amount of dust, sand and sheer heat. Although his body had quickly acclimatised to the foreign temperatures and his skin had tanned nicely, he was glad about the cooler temperatures. Besides not being on the constant look-out for IUDs was a welcome change, too. The completely decorated airport though was something his eyes needed more acclimatising to. At their base camp they had hung up the odd mistletoe, mainly to entertain themselves by being on the constant lookout. That thing had shown up in the oddest of places and it had been great fun. The huge Christmas trees hung with baubles and fairy lights were quite the sight but somehow it felt like too much after the bareness of a military camp in the desert. Well, he was travelling on Christmas Eve so he should have steeled himself for it.

His traitorous mind couldn’t switch off for too long though. Shortly after he had settled in to wait for the boarding to begin, he already started thinking of what lay ahead of him. When he had left for the war, all his belongings had gone into storage. There was no way he could afford to keep a flat in London when he wasn’t even living there most of the time. So his two weeks of leave would be spent at his sister’s. Harry was probably nice, in the overall sense. They used to have the usual sibling rivalry which had died down a bit with age. In its place they adapted accusations of betrayal, when Harry had realised John was going to ship out with the army, and general concern about his sister’s alcohol problem. She would never call it that but John had watched it getting worse and worse with each year. Their infrequent E-mails really didn’t give him a good point of reference but he was prepared for the worst. At least with this flight he would still get home on Christmas Eve, already looking forward to the luxury of sleeping in on Christmas morning. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the flight 654 to London will be delayed indefinitely. Our flight attendants are at your service for any question. Thank you very much for your understanding.”

John groaned as the the words registered in his head. So much for coming home early. Luckily this was his last flight and he wasn’t one of the poor people having to scramble for connection flights in Heathrow. All this meant for him was waiting a bit more. One thing the army prepared you very well for was waiting. Waiting was what you usually did in Afghanistan. There was way too much of it for John’s liking and it wore your nerves thinner than any gun fight. Anyway, it prepared you for sitting around still in an airport, waiting for the snow storm to die down enough for the airlines to dare flying again. John just rested his head against the back of his seat, having slumped down a bit to get more comfortable and prepared himself for an indefinite amount of time of listening to the same ten Christmas songs on a loop. 

“I have to be in London tonight!” The loud voice pulled John from the zen-like calm he had tried to put himself into. “You understand this is a matter of national security?” 

The soldier in him looked up, trying to figure out whether the voice could present a potential threat. A lithe frame was really not what he had expected to go along with the booming voice still echoing in his ears. “Aren’t you a pretty one.” He murmured under his breath, “But sadly very hotheaded how it seems.” He turned away again. There was no denying that what he had seen and was still hearing was quite attractive but perhaps his mind was also only supplying that because he hadn’t seen anyone out of fatigues for the past five months. Either way, the stranger wasn’t his concern at the moment but his stomach was and that growled for food especially now that they appeared to have quite a lot of waiting time ahead of them.

~ ~

Sherlock was certain that this was all Mycroft’s doing.

Staring at the information screen, Sherlock repressed a frustrated sigh as he shifted once again on the airport chair. He didn’t have any time to waste and this delay was compromising his entire plan. He needed to be inside that plane thirty minutes ago, not waiting here for some incompetent flight attended to call for the boarding. The woman at the desk had picked up the phone three times in the last ten minutes and clearly wasn’t getting any good news.

“Looks like we’re going to stay on the ground for a moment.” Came a voice next to him and Sherlock didn’t even bother to look at the middle-aged man sitting beside him. The man was clearly going home from a “business trip” (long time mistress, she’s pressuring him to leave his wife) and definitely not worth Sherlock’s attention.

Sherlock stood up and went to sit somewhere else. He needed to concentrate, the numerous Christmas songs and decoration in the airport were testing his self control for hours now. If he wasn’t able to embark his own flight, then his suspect wouldn’t either. And Sherlock really had to find a way to keep an eye on him. He didn’t spend the last two months running around Europe, chasing the shadow of an organization, only to give up now. He was too close to catch the man, expose him and finally prove to everyone what he could do.

Sherlock couldn’t wait to see Mycroft’s face. His brother had been more than opposed to his departure in the first place, reminding to Sherlock that University would to start again soon and that even he had to study, a fact that Sherlock had proven wrong in a matter of seconds. Of course Sherlock had ignored him entirely, choosing to forget that he was under Mycroft’s care for yet another year and that his brother actually had the power to make him stay in London. But then, Mycroft always knew when to back away.

Sherlock had first heard of the Organization through the Yard’s files, more precisely during one of this dull and boring day when Lestrade didn’t trust him enough to let him investigate the crime scene. Sherlock had rapidly taken up the habit of going through unresolved case’s files, dozens of boxes stacked in the Yard’s underground proving that the Police really was in need of his help. Lestrade had first attempted to keep him out of the archive room, but he had soon realised it was useless to deny Sherlock any kind of distraction. Lestrade wasn’t actually that bad, even if Sherlock would never say it to his face. He had helped Sherlock during a tough time and not once treated Sherlock like a complete lunatic, despite the constant complaints from his men.

When he came back to London, Sherlock would become the only consulting detective in the world. He only had to make sure not to lose his suspect in the enormous airport, which seemed a lot more difficult than he had anticipated.

Jason Marks had appeared on the Yard’s file for the first time five years ago. He had been taken in for questioning concerning the murder of a young girl but the Yard had released him the very same day. Sherlock had looked at the case for an entire afternoon, trying to understand how this girl died but found absolutely nothing against this said Jason Marks. Then the same name had shown up again in five other unsolved cases, and every time the lack of evidence allowed Jason Marks to walk free. Sherlock had then occupied all of his free time looking over every cases concerning Jason Marks and after months of research, he had found the first trace of the Organization.

Specialized in selling governmental files and secret information, the Organization had men all over the word. Jason Marks was one of them. Sherlock even suspected he was part of the higher ranks. Which is why it had taken another three months for Sherlock to find him and then weeks to conceptualise the perfect plan to dismantle the secret organization. He hadn’t mentioned anything to Lestrade or even Mycroft (who must have known from the beginning anyway, insufferable as he was) and booked a ticket for Paris two months ago, planning a trip to the last place where Jason Marks had been seen. Ever since, Sherlock had been chasing him through all of Europe, trying to keep Mycroft out of his investigation.

And now, while his suspect was finally in the same building as him, a bit of snow was going to ruin all of Sherlock’s hard labour.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the flight 654 to London will be delayed indefinitely. Our flight attendant are at your service for any question. Thank you very much for your understanding.”

Sherlock rose to his feet and walked to the gate desk, barely leaving the women the time to hang up the phone before saying.“I need to take that plane, right now.”

“I’m sorry Sir, but the weather condition are forcing us to stay on the ground for an undetermined time. You are welcome to go visit our boutiques or-”

“If I wanted to shop I’ll go to a shopping mall.” Sherlock cut her off harshly, “If I don’t make it to London tonight dozens of people will die.”

“If you’ll excuse me for a second.” The woman asked as she reached for her phone desk again.

“Oh please,” Sherlock replied, rolling his eyes, “If I were a terrorist I would be cleverer than that.”

“Sir, I-”

“No,” Sherlock continued, ignoring the worried glance the woman was giving to her colleague, “I work with the police and I need to take this plane for an investigation.”

“Can I see your badge then,” the woman asked, relaxing a bit at Sherlock’s explications.

“It is not the point,” Sherlock sighed, cursing himself for not stealing ones of Lestrade’s before leaving.

“I’m sorry Sir, but I can’t help you without seeing your badge first.”

“I have to be in London tonight!” Sherlock practically yelled and the woman stepped back marginally. “You understand this is a matter of national security?” 

“If you’ll wait, I can call my supervisor.”

Sherlock considered walking behind the desk for a second. It would be the easiest way to make sure his suspect hadn’t booked a private plane, but two security guards were walking towards him. Leaving the desk quickly, Sherlock made sure to lose himself in the crowded hallway, taking of his coat to fit in. 

He could always call Mycroft and ask him to confirm that his suspect’s plane was also not going to take off. But then he would owe Mycroft a favor, and Sherlock knew too well the kind of events Mycroft would want him to attend. No, Sherlock had begun this case by himself, and he would find a way to finish it here.

After all, he was in an airport. He only needed to look up to find the answer to all his problems.

~ ~

John had stood up again. There was no point for him too to pester the poor ground personnel. They had enough to do with the line of businessmen demanding to be rebook to the next available flight. So the soldier decided to get himself some food, perhaps find something that looked at least a bit appetising and wasn’t one of those horrid, prepacked sandwiches. By now he had been away from his home country for long enough that a few more hours didn’t push his buttons anymore. Especially, because he really hadn’t a place in London to call home anymore. Harry’s would be fine he supposed, at least at first.

He looked at the display of snacks lined up in the fridge section of one of the convenience stores. Somehow nothing on offered looked liked any food he actually wanted to put it into his mouth. What he craved was a nice hot dinner. As his eyes were browsing the display his mind was already thinking about how many problems he would have to find a hotel in London. There was nearly no question that at some point during the two weeks he would fall out with his sister. It wasn’t really what you could call optimistic, more realistic.  
In the end, John decided on a plain chocolate bar because he had gotten fed up with looking at what should have been real food but didn’t quite manage to pass as that. While strolling through the airport, since there was no use in getting back to the gate, he saw a figure out of the corner of his eye fiddling with one of the doors that clearly wasn’t meant to be used by passengers. He turned and quickly walked over to the stranger, using his authoritative voice he asked, “Hey, what are you doing there?”


	2. Could be dangerous, will be interesting

“Hey, what are you doing there?”

The voice was sharp, startling Sherlock as he closed his hand around the door handle. _Not a security guard_ , Sherlock’s mind supplied. He had checked before and none had been around, _civilian then_. Sherlock could take care of it quickly, invent a convincing lie and get inside the staff area without any disturbance.

But then, as Sherlock turned around and came to face the owner’s voice, he only managed to reply:

“Good, I could need some help.”

“I’m quite certain you’re not allowed to pass this door,” the man continued, stepping forward when Sherlock unlocked the door.

“Could be dangerous”. Sherlock only supplied before opening the door and walking in. He was only half-surprised to hear the man’s footsteps behind him.

“Sir, I really need you to turn around and leave this private area.”

“You don’t work here,” Sherlock began to reply, searching for the right door as they walked, “Why are you caring about what I’m doing?”

“Passengers aren’t supposed to be here. I’m simply following the rules of any airport, just as you should.” the voice was calm and authoritative. It was obvious that it was used to giving and receiving orders. If the army fatigues, which Sherlock could catch a glimpse of from the corners of his eyes, hadn’t given away the man’s military profession, his voice would have erased any doubts about this particular deduction. 

“Rules,” Sherlock snarled, “boring.”

“I wouldn’t say so, no.”

Sherlock stopped and turned around, not quite expecting the man to be so close. He took the time to properly look at him, taking in the whole of the fatigues and the quite serious face before replying.

“Of course rules are important to you.” Sherlock paused, studying the light shade of sunburn on the man’s neck and the way he clenched his fist under Sherlock’s silent examination. “Military man, recently deployed, Afghanistan or Iraq I would put my money on, and on your first leave. You are not a career soldier though. You went to medical school and probably have finished surgeon training. Somewhere along the lines you joined the army, now practicing as a military doctor in a war zone. You’re waiting for a plane to London, visiting your family for the holidays.” Sherlock paused again before murmuring, “Hum, interesting.”

“What?”

“You’re actually not thrilled to be back. Anyone should be happy to come home for Christmas, but not in your case. As I said, interesting.”

Sherlock resumed walking and smiled slightly when the stranger followed. He didn’t plan for any help at all in this case, but surely a military man craving adrenaline could be useful.

“How did you know that?” The man asked after a minute of silence, clearly having tried to figured it out for himself beforehand.

“What?”

“Everything. Afghanistan, London, my lack of excitement?”

Sherlock slowed his pace, the man now next to him, “Afghanistan it is then.”

“How?” He asked again, his eyes fixed on Sherlock, and the need to impress this man took Sherlock by surprise.

“Your clothes,” he began as they stopped for the third time. “Clearly you’re in the military, you didn’t take the time to change so I’d said it’s your first deployment. Wearing those clothes makes you feel comfortable, a constant reminder that you really are part of the military now. Then there is the sunburn on your neck. It’s newish.You are already tanned but your skin still isn’t yet used to being exposed to the burning sun every day. That only left two possible locations for your deployment: Afghanistan or Iraq.”

“Alright, but how-”

“You being a doctor?” Sherlock cut him off, not wanting to hear whatever the man had to say about his deductions, ”Easy. You didn’t try to arrest me when I walked inside this forbidden area. Any military man would have used force to make me step back, but you didn’t. You followed me because you’re worried about what I might do, but also about what could happen to me. You are used to caring for other people, therefore, a doctor.”

“Just because I didn’t use force to make you back up doesn’t mean I didn’t think about it.” The man smiled, Sherlock losing his focus for a moment.

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t.” Another smile directed more at the floor than at Sherlock this time, but when the man looked up, Sherlock could tell he had made up his mind concerning this conversation. “I’m John Watson, and that was extraordinary.”

Sherlock remained silent for a second, studying every feature of John’s face but everything about him screamed total honesty. “That’s not what people tend to say.”

“I have no trouble believing that.” John laughed before asking, “You can do that with everyone?”

“Yes.” Sherlock replied briskly, wrapping his mind around John’s still friendly behavior.

“Any chance I could get a name?” John continued to smile and stepped closer.

“Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes.” He replied before turning away. Somehow, John’s stare was making Sherlock more uncomfortable than he had thought. Better to focus on his case again.

“And what are you exactly looking for?” John inquired interested, walking next to him.

“CTV room.” John nodded, clearly waiting for Sherlock to continue. “I’m looking for a suspect.”

“Oh, you’re from the police!” John exclaimed, as if it was all making sense now and Sherlock hurried to correct him.

“I’m not a cop, and never will be.” Sherlock said, smiling when John frowned at him in response, “I’m a Consulting Detective.” It was the first time that he introduced himself as such and for a moment Sherlock feared John’s reaction.

But John only asked, a smile still attached to his lips, “Aren’t you a bit young to be a detective?”

Sherlock stopped and turned to face the soldier again, “I’m 21, so old enough to make my own decision and do what I want.”

“Alright, alright,” John replied, raising his hands in a sign of defeat, ”Sorry I asked.”

“I invented the job,” Sherlock felt the urge to explain, “I help the police whenever they need, and I’m on the verge of catching an international murderer, along with his secret organization.”

“A murderer?” John asked and Sherlock clearly saw a spark of interest in the doctor’s eyes.

“Yes,” he replied, leaning closer to John, “I’m going to hunt him down in this airport and arrest him. As I said, could be dangerous.” John stared right back at him, his tongues darting out to lick his lips and Sherlock knew he had won. “Care to help?”

“God, Yes.”

~ ~

There was the all too familiar soft buzz of adrenalin through his veins again. John smirked. So much for having a calm journey home. Either the war zone followed him or he just went looking for it. What he couldn’t ignore though was that this particular war zone was incredibly beautiful. The glimpse he had caught earlier at the gate didn’t do justice to the actual looks. The student, Sherlock his mind helpfully supplied, looked like he had stepped directly from the runway into the airport. The name was incredibly fitting since the other had an otherworldliness about him that caught the soldier off guard. Apart from his slender frame he wasn’t conventionally pretty but the way all his features played together, complementing and highlighting the best attributes, pulled John in. He had to admit that he did like people, always had. They fascinated him and he would do a lot to be near them, especially the smart or beautiful ones.

“So what exactly will we be doing now?” John looked around. He had just agreed to help Sherlock catch whatever criminal he was chasing but actually didn’t know a thing about the whole initiative.

“Looking through CCTV and when I find him, we’ll prevent him from boarding a plane.” Sherlock just shrugged as if it was the most obvious plan in the world.

“That’s all well and nice but I don’t actually know who you are looking for.” John supplied crossing his arms behind his back as he adapted a more comfortable stance. 

“No problem I’ll find him and then you can take a look.” the consulting detective waved his hand at John, dismissing the other’s concerns.

“Meaning I will be standing around waiting for you to work your magic? Problems if I ask some questions then? I’ve had quite enough of waiting around silently and it’s my vacation time after all.” the soldier smiled. 

“Oh, knock yourself out.” Sherlock shrugged.

John chuckled softly. He wasn’t sure what he had gotten himself into but it promised to be a lot more entertaining than sitting at a closed gate. He took a look at the other, obviously not being able to tell nearly as much just by the outer appearance of someone. 

“Tell me about yourself then. What are you studying?”

“Forensic Science” came the mumbled reply while Sherlock was clearly focussed on something else, namely scanning the security footage. 

“Ah, care to elaborate on that? I mean any special interest? You don’t look like someone who follows procedures. Tell me if I’m wrong but I guess any kind of police work requires exactly that: following procedures.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “That’s why I’m not working for the police. Well, in a way I am but I’m working with my own methods and under my own conditions. Surprisingly, they are so often out of their depth that they rather ask me than not solve a case.”

John laughed, really vividly imagining the enigmatic personality bustling through a crime scene and a lot of her majesty’s finest accepting their fate. 

“Okay, family then. Anyone there who brought you into the field?”, John smiled. 

Usually he was charming enough for people to spill their secrets and quickly tell him half of their life. By now he had gotten the feeling that it would be a bit more work when it came to Sherlock. Nevertheless, he enjoyed it. After all, John had never backed up from a challenge, and this man seemed to be a mystery in every way. Furthermore, there was nothing really interesting to do at the airport and the detective was posing as a welcome distraction.

“My mother is a mathematician and my brother works for the government. So no: It has been my idea.” the young student quickly shot him down.

John didn’t want to get discouraged too quickly so he tried to dig deeper. “I’m sure it was your idea.” He replied, smiling, but Sherlock didn’t even glance back at him. “It is so unique that only someone special could have come up with it. I guess your parents were really accommodating and let you do what you wanted to?”

Sherlock looked up from the desk he was working on. The soldier felt the cutting gaze back on himself and John sensed small shivers running through his body It was like being turned inside out. John held back his breath during the few seconds of silence before the deep voice spilled nearly all his secrets. 

“I don’t know why you are so interested in my family history. Perhaps it is because your parents have always been rather strict. You grew up in a conservative household. When you sibling came out, you witnessed how disappointed your parents were so you never told them about your bisexuality. With the disapproval of your parents, I guess especially your father’s, your sibling slipped deeper and deeper into a drug problem, probably alcohol. Your parents are either dead or live outside London since you will spend your Christmas leave with your sibling and are already thinking about renting a hotel instead. Thus no good connection with either your parents or your sibling. Later probably because as a doctor you tried to help but since they are older, they wouldn’t accept.” 

John was a bit shocked, he had to admit, but it was still incredibly extraordinary. He had practically told Sherlock nothing about himself or his background and now it seemed like it had all been written onto his forehead from the get-go.

“That was…”, he stuttered slightly, blinking a few times, “How did you know that?”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “You aren’t angry?” His voice sounded honestly surprised.

“No”, John shook his head, eyes wide, “Not by a long shot. That was amazing.” John paused, still staring at Sherlock before smiling as he asked, “If I bother you with how you did it, will you give me some evasive answer again or will you answer?”

“While I’m honoured by you not punching me, for the second time today, I would rather concentrate on the chase after the criminal.” Sherlock quickly turned back to the CCTV and John would have bet that he had seen a faint blush creeping over those high cheekbones. It seemed like he could still have a chance. Flattery wasn’t that hard of a challenge after all. 

“Of course”, John smiled and composed himself back into parade’s rest, “Do what you need to do and tell me when you actually need muscular help.”

There was an audible huff which John took as affirmation.

The time the detective spent bend over tables and squinting at multiple screens, John took to observe the remarkable man a bit more. There was no way he would gather even half of the information Sherlock had seemingly pulled out of his sleeve about himself, but a few things still could be learned. For example, it was hard to miss the way Sherlock’s muscles shifted under the perhaps slightly too tight trousers or how the shirt was being stretched so much across his back that John was already worried a bit. He really had run into not only a genius but one that seemed to be trapped in a model’s body. The soldier bit his lower lip, trying to steer his thoughts away from the murky waters they were getting too close to. They were breaking multiple laws at the moment to hunt for someone who was doing the same. There was no time for sexual fantasies. 

“There you are!”, Sherlock grinned triumphantly.


	3. On your marks

“I take it that you found him?” John’s voice came from behind him, startling Sherlock a little.

He had almost forgotten John’s presence. To Sherlock’s surprise, John hadn’t tried to ask any further questions and had stayed silent for the last ten minutes without complaining. Surely the army had taught him to stay in place for a long time and not make a sound, but Sherlock had expected more curiosity from the man. He hadn’t even explained the whole situation, but John didn’t seem to mind. Sherlock couldn’t help but wonder when John would stop surprising him. 

“Yes,” Sherlock confirmed without turning back, “It was only a matter of time, really.”

“Still, there must be thousand of people inside this airport.” John remarked, stepping closer to the CCTV control, “It should have taken hours to spot him.”

“For anyone else, yes.” Sherlock replied before frowning at John’s smirk. “What?”

“Nothing.” John smiled before looking at the different screens. “So, where is our man?”

“Here.” Sherlock said, pointing at one of the screen while wondering since when his suspect had become _our man._

“So what’s the plan?” John asked, his eyes following the suspect, sitting in one of the airport’s restaurants.

“We catch him. Obviously.”

“Yes, I get that.” John shook his head smiling and Sherlock was getting more and more confused by the meaning of these smiles. “But how? Which tactics are we using?”

“Clearly you must know we are not in a battlefield.” Sherlock countered and John let out a small laugh, looking back at him. 

“I am well aware, yes. But it doesn’t change the fact that you need a plan. Especially, when you want to arrest someone.” John persisted and Sherlock sighed, walking toward the exit. 

“I know how it works John. I already have a plan: catch the man and give him to the german authorities. They’re looking for him like every other police in Europe.”

Sherlock opened the door, checking the hallway to make sure no member of staff was there and got out. John followed quickly, regaining his place beside him and Sherlock waited for the obvious next intervention. He eyed the soldier, his lips stretch in a thin line and his eyes scanning the floor before them. It didn’t take a lot of work to deduce John’s next words.

“There are civilians in this airport,” John began and Sherlock’s lips twitched into a smile, waiting for John to continue. “We don’t know if this man is armed. We have to be careful.”

“Good thing I’ve found an army doctor then.” Sherlock smiled before opening the door to the airport, John smiling back at him before shaking his head. 

“Good thing indeed.”

Sherlock let the door slam shut behind them, his eyes fixed on John. He was still smiling, his face completely open for Sherlock to read and yet Sherlock couldn’t understand the, surely simple, reason why John had not walked away yet. Yes, he was worried about the tourist’s safety as well as for Sherlock’s. But he could just go find the police at the airport and let them arrest Jason Marks. He didn’t need Sherlock to do it and yet here he was, waiting patiently for Sherlock to give the next instruction and smiling. Always smiling. 

“So, shouldn’t we go ?” John finally inquired, his hands clasped behind his back and the military shirt not quite concealing the hard muscles of his arm. 

Sherlock didn’t bother replying. He simply turned around and looked at the signs in front of him. The restaurant they needed to go to was on the opposite side of the airport and Sherlock wasted no time to inform John about their destination. He could already hear John’s footsteps following him anyway. They reached the restaurant quickly, without a word being exchange and once again Sherlock realised their shared silence hadn’t been awkward or forced in any way. John truly seemed comfortable just following him, as if he was already trusting Sherlock enough to let him decide for the both of them. 

Sherlock had to repress a sigh once they arrived the restaurant. Christmas decoration were hanging everywhere. Two santa claus were watching Sherlock, their frozen smile rendering them more scary than welcoming. Every table was covered in green and red, the usual Christmas song resonating inside and Sherlock almost considered waiting for Marks to walk out to catch him. 

“Not much of a Christmas person?” John asked, startling Sherlock for the second time today. 

“The whole business is dreadful.” Sherlock remarked.

“You do know it’s one of the happiest couple of days of the year for most people?” John smiled, pointing to the children running around laughing.

“Most people are boring.” Sherlock replied and turned to face John, “Are you a Christmas person then ?”

John fell quiet, his eyes never leaving Sherlock’s. They remained still for a few seconds before John remarked, “I see Marks.”

Sherlock nodded, he had spotted their suspect the moment they had arrived. He let John get away with this not so subtle change of subject and focused on Marks again. Finally, he was just meters away from his suspect. The months spent in dirty hotels, the hours hidden in some dark alleys, the countless time Sherlock feared for his life. Everything coming to an end in a crowded airport, surrounded by ridiculous Christmas decoration and, most importantly, side by side with an unexpected ally. 

“Sherlock?” John’s voice came again, much closer this time. “How to we proceed?”

Sherlock looked back at John, standing right next to him, “I need to observe him.”

“Alright,” John nodded, “So we take a seat?”

“Yes.” Sherlock agreed and they both entered the restaurant, choosing a table not too far from their suspect. “Sit in front of me.” Sherlock ordered John, the doctor complying without question. 

The suspect was just within Sherlock’s sight and with John’s broader body obscuring him, the man couldn’t spot Sherlock watching him. Sherlock only needed to find something that could incriminate him without any doubt. If he arrested Jason now, without any reliable proof, the police would let him go and Sherlock’s chance of finding him again would be reduced to naught. 

“Found something interesting?” John hummed after a moment, clearly fighting back the urge to turn around while he was browsing the menu.

Sherlock only tilted his head slightly in response, not having any time to waste. He heard the waitress come to their table but he only waved his hand at her when she asked what he wanted to drink. John ordered for both of them, waiting for the waitress to go before saying :

“You realised it would look weird if we don’t at least drink anything?” Sherlock shrugged at him, John laughing as he continued, “And here I thought you were a talker.”

“A talker?” Sherlock repeated, gazing back at John for a second. 

“You had quite some monologues back there,” John replied and Sherlock rolled his eyes before looking at his suspect again. “I’m not complaining.” John added after a moment and Sherlock darted his eyes to him again but John was looking at the people around them. Once this case was over, Sherlock needed to concentrate on the doctor a bit more.

The waitress came back with their drinks and John sipped in silence. Sherlock never touched his. It was only twenty minutes later that the solution to their case presented itself. 

“His briefcase!”

“His briefcase?” John frowned.

“Yes. You wanted a plan?” Sherlock smiled, “Here’s a plan: We use the waitress to distract him. She needs to spill some soda on his clothes and force him to go to the bathroom, she finds you quite handsome so it will not be a problem. Then, when Jason is busy, I take a look at the documents in his briefcase, find a solid proof and we leave before he comes back.”

“What make you think he will not take his briefcase to the toilet ?” John asked, actually pointing out a possible flaw in his plan. 

“He has not look at it until now which can only mean he’s certain the briefcase is safe, probably secured by a code. He trusts no one can open it, he barely thinks about it anymore. It’s obviously an old briefcase judging by the scratch on the bottom, he carries it with him all the time. Which means he will never forget it by mistake after a dinner or on the train but in a case of emergency, he will not think about.”

“Amazing,” John replied, eyes fixed on him. 

“Obvious,” Sherlock muttered, his cheeks feeling a bit too warm and hoping he wasn’t actually blushing. “I trust you to guard the bathroom door.”

“Alright.” John nodded, already shifting back to his military posture. 

Sherlock quickly dismissed the spike of interest that made his stomach flutter. He didn’t have the time to let his body take control. Not right now.

~ ~

“So first I’ll ask the waitress for a favour and then I’ll stand guard. Is that how you imagines this?” John chuckled. The plan was bonkers the least but he couldn’t bring himself to care enough.

“Yes”, Sherlock nodded and shifted a bit on his chair. 

Innerly John screamed triumphantly. The compliments were working and perhaps with a bit of adrenalin he could get a nice flirt out of the other while they were waiting for their plane. Ah, the plane or more the currently least interesting thing on John’s mind. Going home for Christmas suddenly seemed so dull in comparison to what they were up to at the moment.

“I hope you’ll find your cue then.” The soldier grinned and stood up. 

Simple attraction based on Uniform was an easy thing to exploit, so John made sure that his jacket was open with its sleeves rolled up just past the elbows and his military t-shirt was tucked snugly into his fatigues. It should feel wrong to utilise his rank like that but then again they had already been treading on the verge of wrong for quite a while.

In the end it was ridiculously easy. A soft smile here, a compliment there, some deliberate show of the strength hiding beneath his clothes and John had her eating out of his hand. He had already decided to leave her a big tip, just so his mind could rest a bit easier. Normally she would have been his type entirely but now there was a young, enigmatic, dark haired student waiting and John really wanted to see how far he would get. So with one more dazzling smile he paid for the drink and thanked her. Now he only had to wait inconspicuously for Sherlock’s plan to unfold.

Something inside him had hoped that their suspect wouldn’t give in so easily, just to prove that Sherlock wasn’t an uber-genius. But of course the drink trick had worked like a charm, the waitress perhaps would do good with a few more acting lessons but nevertheless the shirt and trouser front were wet and that was all that mattered. Keeping cave wasn’t something John did every day. The military didn’t allow for such things, especially not in Afghanistan. But right here it was a different matter altogether and John had to grin as he took up his position in front of the bathroom door, letting Sherlock work his magic with the briefcase.

He would love to know what was currently running through the student’s mind. John felt like Sherlock’s brain was working in marvellous but mystifying ways. Given the time he was sure the other could come up with the most amazing things, especially since he seemed to effortlessly read every fact ever from anyone within a few seconds of meeting them. His mind had gotten a bit carried away and it took a few moments for John to realise their suspect had gotten out of the bathroom again and was now taking off through the airport. 

“Oh no, that won’t work.” John growled and ran after him. 

The airport was a different kind of obstacle course. John was used to the military ones but with the amount of other passengers here, he was running slalom around suitcases and hoards of travellers. It didn’t imped his progress too much, though. Thankful for his many years of rugby before the military service, John closed the last gap between himself and the suspect. Marks didn’t slow down so John had to tackle him to the ground, quickly fixating arms and legs so every conceivable danger was under control.

“Jason Marks” John panted slightly, the sprint having left him just a bit short for breath, “You would do good if you just stayed still now.”

~ ~

Sherlock had just seen John run off when he realised something went wrong. Grabbing the the couple of papers he found, Sherlock bursted out of the restaurant and followed the scream of indignation resonating in the airport. He looked around for any sign of John or Marks and finally spotted the soldier running down the hallway to his left. He hurried up, running faster until he was only meters away from John. But then the blond hair disappeared, John jumping on their suspect and tackling him to the ground. The sudden attack stopped Sherlock’s course entirely.

Frozen in place, Sherlock watched as John secured the man’s arm and feet, his lips moving fast and his chest rising quickly. John was in his element, his body ready for any act of defense from Marks, and Sherlock felt an unfamiliar heat spread through his entire body.

“Out of the way, out of the way.” Sherlock heard two security guards scream as they made their way to John and Marks, still on the ground. 

Sherlock shook his head, chasing away the unwelcome fantasy of John’s strong body above him in a entirely different situation. He only needed to finish the case, and then maybe Sherlock would consider exploring the further possibilities of his companionship with John Watson. 

“John.” He called as he approached, John looking up without letting go of Marks.

“You can’t be here, sir.” One of the security guard practically yelled at him, already reaching for Sherlock’s arm to take him away.

“This man is criminal,” Sherlock replied, walking out of from the man’s reach, “You’ll need to call the police right away.”

“Listen kid,” the security guard repeated with a slight german accent and clearly annoyed by Sherlock’s refusal, “this is none of your concern. Please step away.”

His colleague was eyeing John, clearly not knowing if he should arrest John despite the obvious army affiliation. Sherlock sighed, not quite missing John’s smile as he did, and turned to face the guard.

“I know this is your first day here, and that your wife’s adultery is keeping you up every night, but it is not an excuse for idiocy.” Sherlock snarled, the man's eye widening as anger turned his face red, “I am telling you this man a international criminal, wanted in several countries and all you have to say is ‘step away’ ?”

“Sherlock,” John’s voice came from behind him and Sherlock turned around, not used to being interrupted during his deductions, “A little nicer maybe?”

“Nicer?” Sherlock repeated, frowning at the mere thought.

“I’d like to avoid being arrested.” John explained, nodding at the three policemen walking towards them. “So yes, nicer.”

Sherlock opened his mouth, ready to explain that ‘nicer’ wasn’t part of his job but John glared at him, making it clear he was dead serious. Sherlock sighed again, rolling his eyes as he waited for the police to arrive. It didn’t took long for Sherlock to explain the whole situation, the few documents he managed to acquire convincing the three men in a matter of minutes. John handed them Marks, the man wincing as John tighten his grip around his wrist for a brief second. 

“I’ll need to take down your statements.” The chief of security pointed out, “Both of yours.”

“You'll have all the information you need in there,” Sherlock declared handing him Marks’ documents.”I’m sure you can manage on your own.” Sherlock added before giving him his best smile, John letting out a muffled giggle next to him.

“Beside, we both have a plane to catch.” John remaked.

“All flights have been cancelled for the night.” The man replied, “So if you please, my office is this way.”

Sherlock glanced at John beside him but John only shrugged before following the man. Sherlock sighed again before catching up with them. At least that way he could make sure the german authorities wouldn’t take credit for the arrest. In the end, the german police only held him up for one hour, the investigation turned quite simple once Sherlock told them to call the DI at Scotland Yard. John had been taken in a different room and when Sherlock finally was free to go, the soldier was nowhere in sight.

Buttoning his Belstaff again, Sherlock considered calling Mycroft to see if he could find him a plane for tonight. Looking for an hotels near the airport would be hell, and by now most of the room must have been booked. The mere thought of going through all the hotels around here was making Sherlock want to pick up his phone. _But calling Mycroft means acknowledging the fact that I’m in need of his help._ Sherlock thought, _I managed to avoid any contact for the past months. I can deal with one last night on my own now._

“Sorry about your plan.” John’s voice came on his right and Sherlock didn’t try to hide his smile as he turned to face him.

“It wasn’t my best plan.” He confessed.

“Yes, it wasn’t.” John laughed, the lines around his eyes crackling and Sherlock found himself unable to look away. “Well, at least they didn’t kept us in there for too long.” John continued, “Even if it means I need to find a hotel for the night like all the thousand other passengers in this airport.”

Sherlock allowed himself to laugh, joining John for a few seconds. John was looking everywhere but at Sherlock, and the detective put his hands inside his coat’s pocket, too afraid of what he might do to make John look at him again. 

“I guess I should go get my bags back.” John finally declared, his eyes crossing Sherlock’s for less than a second. “It was nice meeting you, Sherlock Holmes.”

Sherlock nodded, shaking the hand John was offering, “Thank you for your help with this case.”

“Kept me away from dying of boredom.” John smiled again, and Sherlock quickly stored it in his Mind Palace. “Have a safe trip back home.” John said before letting go of his hand, Sherlock, putting it back inside his pocket right away. He could still feel John’s warmth on his skin.

“You too.” Sherlock replied. “Goodbye John.”

“Goodbye.”

With one last smile, John turned his back to him and walked away. Sherlock’s mind supplied him with three differents way of calling the soldier back and hold his attention for the rest of the night. He clearly saw the spark of interest in the man's eyes during their time together, and Sherlock didn’t bother to deny the fact that he was equally attracted. He only needed to call John’s name, propose him to look for a hotel together and let Jon work it out. It wouldn’t take him long to realise they could finish the night in the same bed and part in the morning, like any grown up. _Keeping John beside me for a few more hours, and then what ?_

Sherlock closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before looking back at John’s figure one last time. He waited until John disappeared in the crowd and walked away. John Watson had been a valuable asset today, and Sherlock was glad to have crossed his path. But it ended here. And it was perfectly fine.

But when thirty minutes later, as Sherlock walked inside the fourth hotel in search of a room, he couldn’t help the honest laughter that escaped him when he heard a now familiar voice ask right behind him with an audible smirk. 

“Let me guess, you’re looking for a room?” 

_The universe is rarely so lazy._


	4. How to spend your Christmas Eve

It had taken quite a bit of self-control for John to simply walk away. Sherlock had been the most interesting person he had met in years,and John would be lying if he said he didn’t get to met lot of strange and mysterious people since his deployment. But he never liked to push others too far, especially people he just met, and Sherlock hadn’t seemed inclined to spend the evening with him. John had been careful, not wanting to miss any clue indicating that Sherlock might also share his interest. But they had said their goodbyes and John had fought back the urge to turn around and directly ask Sherlock out for the night. 

That’s why, as he came into the next of the airport hotels, walking into a fully decorated foyer, John had to bite his lip when he spotted the dark mop of curls in front of him. He could just walk past Sherlock and hope the other would either not see or simply ignore him. But that was too much effort, and in total honesty, John had learned not to let a second chance pass right before his eyes. So he stalked up behind Sherlock, ready to face whatever the night would offer.

“Let me guess, you’re looking for a room?” John rumbled. Perhaps he just had to make his intentions clearer and since Sherlock started laughing in a way that sounded almost relieved, he thought that he might just be in with a shot.

“Like everyone else how it seems!” Sherlock nodded.

“Well, then let’s see if you have luck here.” John said and nodded at the reception desk, his big army issued backpack shouldered.

Obviously the lady at the reception desk could only offer them one room. “It is quite spacious but it only has one bed.” She smiled and John tried very hard not to do the same.

“It’s fine. I can go and look for another room.” Sherlock immediately offered.

John rolled his eyes and quickly intervened. There was no way he would let Sherlock slip through his grasp again. 

“You don’t want to continue for hours, trust me. One room will be fine. I’m used to worse places than a hotel room floor. We’ll take the room.” He smiled friendly and already put down his card on the desk, trying to prevent Sherlock from arguing. He was a bit surprised when the other actually kept quiet and let him sort out their accommodation. 

“Come along” John smiled and waved the two key cards in front of Sherlock’s face. “Up to the room. I’d really like a shower and then I think I want to look at the small Christmas party, even if it’s just for the food. Do you want to come along?” 

“Christmas parties, not really my thing.” Sherlock answered and scrunched up his nose a bit while he went along to the lift with John. 

“I’m sorry. I’d rather be at home too, but this is how it is. Better make the best out of it.” he shrugged and let Sherlock into the small lift first.

Obviously, he had a sleek, black roll along suitcase, nothing that could even remotely be compared to John’s dusty, military backpack. Still although they looked as different as night and day, literally because Sherlock was as white as if he’d never seen the sun and John himself had put on quite the tan, the soldier was confident enough for the night to take an interesting turn. As they reached the room he let Sherlock in first again.

“I’m standing by my word, you can have the bed.” he smiled and put his backpack down next to a small couch. “I’d just like a shower and later I’ll be fine with this couch. So get as comfortable as you like.”

He plucked a few things from his bag, mainly some new underwear and a jeans. There would be toiletries supplied by the hotel and either way he was used to the bare basics. He didn’t even think about grabbing a shirt when he entered the bathroom. Neither did it come to his mind as he showered, enjoying the spray of the hot water, the nice bathroom around himself and the blessed absence of hurry. 

When he dried himself off, he took a longer look into the mirror. He was quite fit, no need for him to hide in that respect. Still, he had no idea if Sherlock found him attractive, the man being impossible to read, so he couldn’t build too much on it. With a sigh he pulled on the pair of jeans and left the bathroom having righted his hair just with a quick swipe of his hand. 

“Still sure you don’t want to come along?” He tried asking again. Somehow none of the shirts he found quite struck his fancy. “I think it could be fun or at least some proper Christmas food.”

“Not my thing” Sherlock’s voice came from the bed, a bit fainter than John had expected so he turned around. The sight that hit him left him grinning and pulling an eyebrow up. 

“Sure about that?”

Sherlock just hastily nodded and turned back to his book. There was no way for John to miss the blush creeping over the other’s cheeks since it was a deep crimson red. Apparently his worries were for nothing. He might not get Sherlock down to the party but at least he would know where to find the boy afterwards. Suddenly he didn’t feel like putting on a shirt at all but even an idiot, and really Sherlock was far from being one, could guess what his game was. Pulling the t-shirt over his head took deliberately longer than usual and he could just catch Sherlock’s head turning away again, as he peaked out of the collar. He hoped he would get some more time to tease the other when he came back.

“Okay, well you know where to find me if you get bored.” John hummed and grabbed his key card, “Feel free to join me any time.”

The Christmas party really was rather boring but John enjoyed a nice helping of pie and was currently nursing a glass of scotch while sitting in one of the armchairs. He had shortly thought about sitting at the bar but then decided to get comfortable. Drinking while sitting on hard chairs is what you did in the army all the time, he wanted to feel the luxury of being himself. The hotel wasn’t the most luxurious one possible but after camp in Afghanistan and the looming shared living space with his sister, he was relishing in the time he had for himself. Sure, he would have loved to spend it with Sherlock. He was sure there were still a lot of interesting things to be learned, especially since he had nearly no knowledge of personal details yet. Someone like Sherlock definitely came from an extraordinary family and lead a life far from anything that could be considered normal. John really wanted to have him here, sitting with him for a while just talking and then later… 

Well, he really couldn’t deny that he also wanted to stretch that beautiful, long body out on the bed in their room and find out just what it took to make Sherlock writhe and moan and beg. Would he trash his head around or just bend it back, stretching that pale neck impossibly taut? Did he prefer gentle, teasing touches or hard, bruising ones? John licked his lips at the thought of leaving a mark on the alabaster skin. There was so much he wanted to do that he feared the one night he might get wouldn’t be enough. 

That was what you got, wasn’t it? Keeping up a relationship long distance was already hard and not made easier if one party was in the army. He saw the way his mates suffered. The way they bashed out every last piece of opportunity and time to get an e-mail, a letter or a call in to their loved ones. While John really missed the security and love a relationship offered, he also felt lucky at least as long as he was on deployment. Now, the thought of returning to a partner for the holidays was so much more appealing than going to his sister. He sighed. Getting down about something you couldn’t change simply wouldn’t cut it tonight. Even if Sherlock wasn’t down here and even if it was just one night, John would do his damnedest to get that.

He had just ordered another glass when a familiar figure slowly weaved its way through the room.

“Look at that.” John murmured to himself “Perhaps now I get my chance to turn your head.”

~ ~

Sherlock put down his book the moment John walked out the room. He closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall and let out a loud breath. He couldn’t decide if meeting John in the lobby had been a good thing or not. And why did I agree to sharing a room? Sherlock asked himself for the third time since they made their way to te room. The bed was large enough for two, and yet John had declared the couch would be perfect for him. So very kind. Sherlock thought before opening his eyes. John’s army clothing were still lying on the floor and the image of John's naked torso passed through Sherlock’s mind, _as if I needed a reminder._

Sherlock perfectly remembered the solid muscle of John’s stomach and the way his shoulder blades had rolled when he had put on another shirt. Sherlock could have laughed at the not so subtle teasing if he hadn’t been too busy hiding his burning face. John was handsome and denying it wasn’t going to help him right now. Of course Sherlock wasn’t oblivious to sexual attraction, or even to sex in general. He had experienced it, three times, before realising that two minutes of pure bliss wasn’t worth all the troubles. Flirting, kissing, small talk. All of it dull and quite tendious. But then, Sherlock hadn’t feel this pure want, this need to touch and caress and taste with his previous sexual partner. It had been efficient, both parties only interested in a one night stand and it had fit Sherlock’s plan nicely. 

The only thing now was that Sherlock couldn’t properly tell if having sex with John tonight, leaving him in the morning and never hearing about him again, was what he wanted. Sherlock was certain John wouldn’t say no, his attraction to Sherlock obvious since the beginning. But the soldier’s reaction to Sherlock’s attitude all day had been a constant surprise, and somehow, Sherlock felt as if having sex with him would put John at the same level as the other people Sherlock had gone to bed with. 

_Stop. John wants me_ , Sherlock thought as he stood up, _and I’m clearly attracted to him. There’s no need to complicate things_. Sherlock grabbed his key card and was out of the room in less than a minute. He was going to find John and let him decide for the both of them. For once Sherlock was going to relinquish the control to someone else. 

“Carefull!” A man exclaimed as Sherlock almost spilled his drink on the floor but he didn’t bother to reply, having caught sight of John sitting in an armchair not far away.

Inhaling deeply, Sherlock allowed himself a few moments to study him. John was drinking scotch and looking absently at the empty chair in front of him, obviously lost in his thoughts. The whole room was filled with Christmas decoration and the burning fire was adding a warm touch to the party. Sherlock let his eyes travel around the room, noticing the numerous children listening to some Christmas story and he tried to remember the last time he had looked forward to celebrating Christmas. Focusing back on John, Sherlock’s eyes found the mistletoe hanging above the soldier and the whole situation could have made Sherlock laugh if it wasn’t so tempting. Shaking his head, he made his way to the chairs. John looked up and spotted him, a smile blooming on his lips as Sherlock approcheaded. He didn’t miss the way John’s eyes scanned his entire body, and Sherlock knew for sure John wasn't going to sleep on that couch tonight. 

“Decided to come down after all?” John smiled after Sherlock had sat in the chair facing his. 

“I was bored.” Sherlock replied.

“Want one?” John asked, pointing at his drink.

“I’m good.” Sherlock refused and John only nodded taking another sip of his scotch. 

They remained silent for a moment, Sherlock looking at the people surrounding them, well aware of John’s gaze on him but said nothing. He needed to let John realise he wasn’t going to back up, that he wanted this as much as him. 

In the end, when John finally broke the silence, it was to surprise Sherlock one more time. “So, what are your plans for Christmas?”

“Small talk,” Sherlock asked, “really?”

“I didn’t exactly get the chance to ask before.” John defended himself, “And even if I did, you wouldn’t have responded.”

“Fair point.” Sherlock agreed and John’s smile grew wider, if a thing like that was even possible. “And no, I don't have any plans.”

“No family reunion? A romantic dinner maybe?” John inquired and Sherlock crossed his hand on his laps, no trying to hide his smile. 

“No,” he replied, “none of the sort.” 

John nodded, licking his lips before drinking. “You already know I’m going to my sister’s,” John smiled.

“Just as I know you'd prefer to go somewhere else.” Sherlock added.

“Right.” John said before finishing his drink. He put the glass aside and sat more comfortably in his chair. “Tell me about your cases.” 

Sherlock frowned, not having expected this conversation at all. He had thought John would have found an excuse to go back to their room by now, but the soldier truly seemed to want to talk. Sherlock realised he really should stop trying to anticipate any of John’s reactions. “Alright,” he said and began telling John about the time he proved one of his teachers was involved in two sex scandals. 

“You didn’t!” John laughed, maybe two hours later as Sherlock explained how he confronted the chief of police on national television. “You’re completely mad.”

“He asked for it.” Sherlock replied, laughing with him.

By now, John was sitting on the edge of his chair, leaning towards Sherlock and their feet were touching. Sherlock hadn’t said anything when John had placed his right foot just next to his, their legs brushing each time one of them moved. Just when Sherlock feared he was about to fall out of his chair, John sat back completely, his drink forgotten by his side and his legs hanging open. Sherlock caught him looking up, his eyes darting to the mistletoe before looking back at Sherlock, or more precisely at his lips. Sherlock held back his breath, following John’s tongue as he licked his lower lip once again. 

“Pardon me, but it’s getting rather late,” one of the hotel staff intervened, “we are closing this area for the night.”

“Oh, sorry!” John apologized, getting to his feet quickly, “We’re leaving. No problem, I hope we haven’t caused too much trouble.”

“Thank you sir.”

Sherlock followed as John lead to the lift, the both of them walking far too close to each other. Sherlock smiled as their hands brushed against each other with every step and he didn’t step away when John almost leaned into his side in the elevator, both of them staring at the floor numbers passing by. Sherlock could almost feel all the tension hanging around them, John’s breath coming quicker and quicker as they approached their floor. They were out of the lift in seconds, John already taking out his key card and opening the door for him.

Sherlock only had the time to hear the door closing before he was pushed against it with force, John’s body pressing against his and their mouths crashing together abruptly. Sherlock moaned, the sound low in his throat and he felt John’s hands cupping his face, tilting his head so he could depend the kiss. There was no time for tender brush of lips and quiet discovery of each other mouth, and really, Sherlock should have known John was a man of action. He circled John’s waist with his arms bringing their bodies even closer as he parted his lips. He let John’s tongue invaded his mouth, the other man’s taste strong and making Sherlock want more and more. 

“Sherlock,” John gasped when they broke apart, “Tell me you want this.”

“Yes,” Sherlock breathed out, pressing their lips together one more time. “Yes.”

John growled, the sound making Sherlock shiver before they were kissing again. Agreeing to share this room may in fact be the smartest thing Sherlock had ever done.


	5. Early Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter ! We hope you liked this story, were sure had a great time writing it together !  
> Enjoy !

John still couldn’t quite believe his luck. Here he was in their shared room with Sherlock pressed up against the door and practically melting into his body. He caught the student’s lower lip between his teeth, nipping at it slightly. His mind had trouble keeping up with all the things he wanted to do. Swallowing another of Sherlock’s moans, John tried to calm himself down. He had this one night and he wanted to make it count. 

Nuzzling at the edge of Sherlock’s jaw he hummed, “We have a bed. What do you think about making use of it?”

Sherlock let his head rest on the door again, breathing out slowly to regain some control. “Yes,” he replied before moaning when John bit down at the sensitive skin where his jaw met his neck. “Now.”

John growled, “Bed!” He didn’t even let Sherlock act for himself but just picked him up from against the door. For a moment he was startled by the lack of weight. Sherlock was a lot lighter than he had expected but he didn’t comment on it, just pushed him down on the bed. The sheets were already crumpling up around them. So John simply pulled the duvet off the rest of the way when he crawled over Sherlock. He pressed their lips together with one hand already sliding its way underneath annoying fabric onto smooth skin.

It was beyond anything Sherlock could have imagined. He had let John carry him to the bed, giving him control entirely only because Sherlock couldn’t bare the thought of letting go of John for even a second. The soldier’s body was surrounding him completely, his taste invading Sherlock’s mouth with each burning kiss and his hands making Sherlock whimper with need. He opened his leg wider, John lowering his body onto his and Sherlock broke their kiss as they clothed erection came in contact for the first time. “Clothes,” he muttered, “too many clothes.”

“Yes” John moaned, “Definitely” He pressed his lips to the underside of Sherlock’s jaw, pushing the other’s head up and back as he kissed his way down the long neck. When his lips encountered the shirt he reluctantly brought his hands up to undo the buttons, licking and kissing each revealed patch of skin. With the last button he gently nipped at Sherlock’s belly button while his hands parted the shirt.

“Come up”, he murmured, “Let me get the shirt off of you.”

Sherlock complied, letting John undressed him slowly and he couldn’t help but noticed how the pace had changed as John took his time to remove each sleeve. Sherlock watched him, not saying a word as John continued to kiss his now naked upper body. First the inside of his wrist, his tongue darting out to lick along one prominent vein before moving to the crook of his elbow, nipping gently at it. It was all so tender and Sherlock closed his eyes, letting out a content sigh as John continued his discovery. He had thought the previous frenzy of their movements would have lead to a storm of passion but John seemed to have decided otherwise. Sherlock almost felt as if John was taking his time on purpose, exploring Sherlock’s body with precision. Just the way Sherlock would have done it if he wanted to commit every detail to memory. 

“John,” he breathed out, his voice barely a whisper and John looked up just as he finished removing Sherlock’s shirt. “I don’t have anything with me.” Sherlock felt the need to remind John there was no use to make it tender and loving. He was not sure he could take it if John decided to make love to him tonight. 

“Soldier, remember?” John hummed and pressed his body back to Sherlock’s, coaxing his tongue back out to play. Having the smooth, pale chest beneath him was like a dream. His mind tried to remind him that he had only gotten the okay for one night. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to treat Sherlock like any other fuck. He wanted to make it at least a bit special. 

“You get out of your pants while I get some lube and condoms?” John smirked, sitting back on his haunches and pulled his shirt off. He let the muscles on his torso stretch a bit before throwing the shirt somewhere to the side. “I want to see you naked and stretched out on the bed.” Quickly John swung himself off the bed, leaving Sherlock dazed on top of the sheets while he looked through his backpack.

Sherlock lifted himself up, resting on his elbows for a moment as he watched John get up. He let his eyes run over the detailed muscular chest in front of him, not quite missing the way John smirked when he caught him staring. Sherlock shook his head, his hands already unbuttoning his trousers as John searched for the supplied they needed. He efficiently removed both trousers and pants in one smooth movement, John’s words still echoing in his mind. He barely had the time to lie back before John turned to face him again. Sherlock let one of his hand slide down his chest, the other tightening in the sheets. He smiled as John licked his lips, the habit giving away John’s obvious thoughts. 

“Coming?” He asked, playing along with John’s teasing attitude. 

“With any luck, yes.” John grinned and stalked back towards the bed. “God, you are a sight to behold.” He put down the condom and lube on the side table before practically attacking Sherlock’s nipples with his lips. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, bend over the bed, but he didn’t much care at the moment. His hand grabbed Sherlock’s and with their fingers entwined he first let it wander down the other’s body, coming tantalisingly close to the straining erection before picking their joined hands up and placing them on his own chest. 

With one last slightly harder nip to one of the red buds, he pushed Sherlock’s hand down towards his trousers. “I’m sure your clever fingers can get me out of these” He breathed and then straightened up again, looking down at Sherlock hungrily. 

Sherlock pushed his body up just enough to kiss at John’s right shoulder blade. He ran his tongue over the warm skin and let his fingers caress John’s chest, discovering the hard lines and small places which made John hiss and gasp. He could feel it rising against his own, John’s breathing more and more heavily. Sherlock had never experienced such a build up, his partner usually getting rid of their clothes with efficiency. But it would be lying to say Sherlock didn’t enjoy it. 

He brushed his hand against John’s crotch, the jeans not concealing the impressive bulge underneath and John thrusted light into Sherlock’s touch. Sherlock moved his lips to John’s neck, massaging John’s erection slowly and enjoying the frustrated noise coming out of John’s mouth above him. Sherlock tightened his grip, adding more pressure to the caress and John moaned loudly. Sherlock knew he wouldn’t get to tease too much before John took back control, and he began to unzip him. Sherlock rested his forehead against John’s chest so he could look down. He bit his lips and pushed John’s jeans down, revealing a black pair of pants and the head of John’s cock just out of the waistband. Sherlock ran one finger across it and John cup his head again, tilting it so he could crash their mouth back together as Sherlock pushed the pants down, John stepping out of his clothes. Sherlock nipped at John’s lower lip one last time before pulling away, lying down on the bed again, opening his arm in a clear invitation. 

John pressed his hand against the inside of Sherlock’s leg, pushing it up slightly as he crawled back between his thighs. “You really are a feast for the eyes.” John rumbled, his hips circling against Sherlock’s and he had to bite back a shout himself, when their cocks rubbed together. It was nothing though against the sight of Sherlock throwing his head back, baring his throat. John latched onto the skin, bruising it just sparingly. 

“I will have so much fun taking you apart.” he hummed as he let his hands trail down Sherlock’s body. “You won’t know what’s happened to you.” John’s tongue was tracing a small pattern across Sherlock’s chest, occasionally sucking a small bruise to any body part that caught his eye. Quicker than he had planned he was on one height with Sherlock’s groin and once he had got a proper glimpse of the other’s cock, he didn’t really feel like holding back anymore. His mouth closed around the head first, letting his tongue enjoy playing with the frenulum for a bit. 

“John!” Sherlock cried out loudly, an edge of desperation in his voice that just made John want to take him apart even more. 

Sherlock couldn't explain how much John’s teasing words were affecting him. He never had a lover who talked that much in bed before, Sherlock being mostly quiet during sex too but John’s voice was making him writhe, waves of heat washing through him. He pushed his knee apart a bit wider as John’s mouth closed around the head of his cock, his mouth hanging open in a silent scream. He felt John’s tongue swirling around it, once again keeping up with the teasing. 

“John, _John._ ” Sherlock moaned again, twisting his finger into John’s short hair. The aching need was making him feel dizzy, and Sherlock itched to touch and taste even more of John. 

Sherlock raised his knee, planting his feet on the mattress and he felt John’s hands slide up and down his thighs, his mouth finally lowering onto Sherlock’s cock. The heat was almost too much and Sherlock arched his back, his cock sliding even deeper inside John’s marvelous mouth. John began to suck in earnest, one of hand circling Sherlock’s cock at the base, tightening his grip when Sherlock started to thrust lightly into his mouth. Sherlock tried to stop, breathing out slowly and concentrating on the ceiling above him, but every one of John’s movements was making him lose his mind. He shut his eyes tightly, feeling his climax approaching rapidly. It was hard to decide if he wanted to come right that moment, John’s mouth working on him with devotion, or if he needed to feel John inside him as he came. He only had this night after all, and Sherlock had to know what it would be like to give himself to John entirely.

“John,” he panted, moving his hands to John’s shoulder, trying to pull him off, “John, _please_.”

John slacked his lips around Sherlock’s cock and pulled off slowly. He batted his eyelashes up at his lover. “So desperate already? God, I haven’t even started with you, yet.” He chuckled and gently pulled his teeth over one protruding hipbone. “Let’s see if I can make you scream in the end. What do you think about the whole hotel knowing that you were fucked through the mattress on Christmas? I think it would be a marvellous idea, finding out if that posh voice of you can get hoarse and rough.” John had noticed that Sherlock had been completely thrown off his game when he had first started talking to him, as if no one had ever voiced a word during sex with him. Even if he wanted to John couldn’t hold himself back with all the dirty thoughts running through his head. Sherlock simply inspired a string of profanities and a tug of possessiveness that John resolutely pushed aside. He only had tonight but he would make it count. 

“How do you feel most comfortable?”, John asked as he reached for the lube, gently running his hand across Sherlock’s abdomen. As much as he liked to push the other further into the grips of pleasure, he felt like they both needed just a moment to calm down again. 

“I want..” Sherlock began before stopping. He breathed out slowly before staring right into John’s eyes. “I want to see you.”

John smiled softly and kissed him gently. “Bit of a romantic?”, he asked but didn’t really leave time for an answer as he claimed Sherlock’s lips again in an instant. After all he was a doctor, he didn’t need to see to know what he was doing. Carefully, as if Sherlock was a prized possession which could easily break in half if you touched him wrongly, John circled one slick finger around the puckered muscle. It was a simple act of persuading a few muscles to relax, nothing more. The first breach of his finger was punctuated with a soft whine. John stopped, making sure Sherlock eased into the sensation before he continued to prep him with one finger. He liked to used just one single digit for a nearly torturous amount of time. It usually got his partner back into the game and Sherlock was no different. Soon he was writhing and pushing down.

“You are terribly impatient.” John grinned and pressed his finger up against the bundle of nerves inside the other, making him arch cleanly off of the bed. “See, that’s what you get for it. I’ll be the judge of when it’s okay to go on. You just come along for the ride.” Suddenly he pressed his tongue into Sherlock’s mouth while simultaneously adding a second finger to stretch him. The reaction he got was glorious. No cramping, just shivers and the heat of Sherlock’s body inviting him in as if he wasn’t an intruder. 

“So pliant. God, I can’t imagine how wonderful you’ll look when you’re properly blissed out.” John breathed, his words ghosting over Sherlock’s neck. “How many people have took their time to prepare you? Did they ever let you go beyond two fingers or were they too impatient themselves?”

“Is that your way of asking how many people I had sex with?” Sherlock smiled before crying out as John hit his prostate again. 

“No, just asking how many of those took their time.” John chuckled, “I’m not interested in how many people you’ve fucked because currently you are writhing on my fingers.”

“Yes, _yours_.” Sherlock whimpered, the need to rock on John’s finger so strong despite the other’s warning. 

Sherlock wanted to tell John how much he had craved for this level of passion before, how many times he had wished to know how it felt to ache for more. But Sherlock kept his mouth shut, letting John drive him mad with lust with each press of his fingers and opening himself as best as he could. He felt John add another finger, the stretch making Sherlock wince and he pulled John up to him again. He licked inside John’s mouth, his tongue sliding against John’s, making sure he could always remember John’s taste afterwards. A guttural moan rumbled from his throat as John’s fingers hit his prostate twice in a row. 

“Yes, John.” Sherlock circled his legs around John’s waist, allowing John to push further. “More. I need more.”

John smirked against his lips, “You will get more, believe me.” He had decided for himself that he would definitely work up to all four fingers. There was no way he wanted this to hurt even the slightest bit for Sherlock, plus it was a delicious feeling being able to observe the thus for so collected person fall apart. John could see the need and want slowly winning over the marvellous self-control and he couldn’t think about anything else but the fact that he had caused that. Already he knew that any future lover would have to compare directly to Sherlock and he wasn’t so sure anyone could be better.

Sherlock felt his cock pulsed and he wondered how John would react if he were to touch himself right now. Would he punished Sherlock with strong pushes against his postrate? Or would he chase Sherlock’s hand away only to replace it with his own? The thoughts made Sherlock bite his lips, hoping his face wouldn’t betray his fantasy but John was concentrate on driving him mad with lust. Sherlock just decided to find out when John added a fourth finger, Sherlock losing the ability to think properly. 

“John!” He cried out, this time not caring about John’s reaction when he pushed down on the fingers inside him. “Would you just get on with it already?” He snapped, the need to have John’s cock in him now too pressing for Sherlock to bare any more teasing.

John laughed but removed his fingers. “Sure your majesty.” With a long arm he grappled for the condom, managing just to get it out of its packaging and onto himself. He couldn’t help but moan loudly when he felt his hand around him, smiling when he heard Sherlock gaps underneath him. Until now he had been so concentrated on Sherlock’s pleasure that he hadn’t realised how achingly hard his own cock was. It took him a short moment of contemplation to figure out how he wanted to do it before he gripped Sherlock securely around the waist and flipped them.

“You’ve been so impatient the whole time.” John growled, pulling Sherlock so he was sitting squarely on his lap, “Now you can show me how prettily you can fuck yourself.” In contrast to his words, he was already planting his feet on the mattress because this was only thought as an illusion of control for Sherlock. “Go on, you wanted more. Take it.”

Sherlock had barely managed to hold back his moan as John had switched their position, the mere thought of riding him making Sherlock shiver with anticipation. His eyes never leaving John’s, Sherlock took hold of John’s cock and positioned himself just above it. Biting down at his lower lip, Sherlock slowly bore down, making sure John could see his every emotion as he breached him. Sherlock wince slightly at first, the head of John’s cock hot and so very hard against his entrance. He placed one of his hand on John’s chest and continue to impale himself down on this gorgeous cock, stopping only when he felt John’s pubes brush his bare arse. His second hand gripped at John’s knee and Sherlock undulated his hips, getting used to the feeling. He continued to look down at John, taking in the way John licked his lips and the hunger in his eyes. He felt John’s hand coming to rest around his hips, his fingers digging into Sherlock’s skin and he understood the message quite clearly. 

Sherlock lifted himself up, John’s cock almost slipping out of him before baring down again, the moan escaping John making Sherlock tremble. He began to rock his hips, setting a regular pace that could not bring them off but send thrills of pleasure through Sherlock’s entire body. 

“John, John.” He gasped, having more and more trouble keeping himself up. He couldn’t find the right position for John to hit his prostate and Sherlock had never been a patient man. “John, I can’t. I…” He didn’t managed to finish his sentence, John thrusting up harshly into him. 

John pushed one of his hands into Sherlock’s neck, pulling him down. “I got you it’s fine”, he breathed. Each of his thrusts now also had Sherlock’s cock, which was trapped between them, caught in constant stimulation, rubbing over John’s belly. It had been absolutely breathtaking to see Sherlock riding his cock but in the end the desperation in the other’s face had won over. John wasn’t cruel, as much as he liked to tease, he was aware when it became too much for his lover. Now, he was holding Sherlock close while he relentlessly pushed his erection into him. It would be easier if they switched positions again but he wanted to keep Sherlock on top of him, watching his whole body quiver at the onslaught of pleasure. 

“You want to come, I can see it.” John moaned, “Just do it.” 

Sherlock whimpered and pushed his body upward again as he took hold of his own throbbing cock, knowing too well John would love to see him touch himself while riding his cock. He didn’t try to hold back any of his moans, the room already filled with the obscene of their bodies slamming together. Sherlock stroke himself quickly, his hand wet with sweat and precome. He made sure to look at John while he brought himself off, knowing his orgasm would send John over the edge himself and Sherlock wanted to engrave John’s face as he came into his memory into his memory. 

“John!” He cried out, quickening his movement before going still entirely, his come landing on John’s chest. He continued to stroke himself until he became over sensitive, whispering one last “John” before relaxing, his sharp eyes still fixed on John

With the contraction of Sherlock’s muscles as he came, John was pulled over the edge too, his eyes fluttering half way close. He pushed a couple of more times into the other, milking his own orgasm as well as providing additional stimulation. The way Sherlock had cried out, his face so very open and his hand moving fast on his gorgeous cock, everything had burned itself into John’s memory. Whatever would happened after that, this is how John wanted to remember Sherlock. 

It took him a few moments to regain his breath and slow his pulse. When he completely opened his eyes again, he found Sherlock lying on his chest by the looks of it completely spent and utterly exhausted. Carefully John closed his arms around the younger one, stroking with one broad palm softly over the skin beneath Sherlock’s shoulder blades. 

“Everything alright with you?”

Sherlock only hummed his response, too afraid of what he might sound like if he’d speak right now. 

“Not trusting your voice?” John chuckled and pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s head. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but at that moment it felt right.

“Trying to deduce people now?” Sherlock smiled, not really knowing if it was because of John’s words or the tender kiss.

“No, I leave that to you, but I do have a bit of experience with post-coital people.” John smiled, feeling incredibly content that Sherlock hadn’t sprung up immediately after coming back to his senses. He had no idea how long it would stay like this but he was determined to enjoy it as long as possible. 

Sherlock stayed silent for a moment, wondering how many times John had seduced strangers in airports before. He could feel John’s heartbeat, the sound low and reassuring as they remained silent for another minute. John’s hands were caressing his back, confusing Sherlock even more. “I should go shower.” Sherlock finally said, hating the way John tensed under him but it was better to cut things off right now. There was no need to spend the night in the arm of someone you would never see again. 

“Of course”, John hummed, “You can have the bath first. I’ll try to make the bed habitable in the meantime.” He tried to hide how reluctantly he let go of Sherlock. Really, he would rather have kept his arms slung around the other’s body but there was probably no point in trying. It was a one night stand after all and Sherlock had just subtly reminded him of that. 

Sherlock breathed in John’s scent one last time and began to stand up. Somehow John’s stare made him uncomfortable and he hurried up to the bathroom after taking a new pair of pant. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and notice the numerous places where John had sucked bruises onto his skin or planted his teeth. The mark would not fade for days, a constant reminder of John’s mouth and hands on his body. Shrugging off the bitter feeling, Sherlock turned on the water and thoroughly cleaned himself of all and any trace of sweat and come. He tried to imagine John next door, cleaning up the bed they had shared for a glorious moment. Sherlock kept his back to the door, not wanting to stare at it while stupidly hoping John would find the courage to join him and reverse the course of the evening.

When his skin began to turn red because of the hot water, Sherlock turned it off and grabbed a towel. He quickly put his pants on and opened the door. His eyes immediately found John’s form, lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling, and Sherlock went for the bed without a word. He slipped under the cover, closing his eyes as he heard John moving around before the bathroom door was once again closed. 

Their mixed scent was still settled deeply in the sheets and Sherlock knew it would take him hours to fall asleep.

~ ~

Sherlock woke up with a start. He looked around, the room dark and quiet before he remembered last night’s events. Automatically, his eyes went to John’s still sleeping form on the couch. The man was breathing slowly, the sound filling the room and Sherlock’s head. The only light came from moon by the open curtain and Sherlock picked up his phone. _4:45 am_. Sherlock sighed, turning under the cover. He needed to go before John woke up. He didn't want to have to exchange forced goodbyes.

Sherlock left the bed quietly, picking up his clothes before entering the bathroom. He quickly dressed up and washed his face. He needed to find another flight to London and with any luck he wouldn't have to wait too long. Sherlock checked himself in the mirror one last time and walked back into the room. He took his bags and stilled in the middle of the room. He watched John’s face, relaxed and trusting, and considered his options one more time.

He could stay and wait for the soldier to wake up. Last night had been good, really good and Sherlock could still feel John’s lips against his temple for one last kiss, even if none of them had mentioned it at that time. Surely Sherlock could find a way to hold John’s attention on him again. _And then what?_

Sherlock shrugged and made his way to the door. He closed it slowly, whispering his goodbye before walking away.

Despite the early hour, the airport was already crowed. Sherlock made his way towards the reservation desk to ask for his new flight. The queue in front of the several desks made him sigh and he prepared himself for a long wait. He went over yesterday’s arrest and stored away the details he needed to remember, deleting the rest. He made sure not to think about John waking up to an empty room.

It was only two hours later that Sherlock found himself in front of yet another gate. He sat in one of the chair and unlocked his phone, texting Lestrade about his return. The DI would probably want to see him right away and Sherlock actually looked forward to explaining everything. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the flight 432 to London will be a few minutes delayed. Thank you for your understanding.”

Sherlock was on his feet in seconds and walking to the flight attendant’s desk, the situation too familiar and not making Sherlock smile at all.

“Are you seriously telling me that this airport can’t managed to let any aeroplane take off?” äSherlock almost yelled as soon as the woman looked up, “Do you know that there are countries where it snows most of the year and I don’t see them cancelling all of their fli-”

“I’m not sleeping on the couch this time.”

Sherlock closed his eyes. He wanted to laugh and turn around to kiss the man. But instead he took a deep breath, turned slowly and was greeted by another of John’s radiant smile. Sherlock felt his own lips stretch into a smile, none of them talking or even moving for a long moment. Sherlock realised how stupid he had been believing he could forget about John Watson. Not when the man was once again proving how brave he could be just by risking his chance with him, after Sherlock had left like a thief in the early morning because he hadn’t had the courage to face him. 

“I know for a fact that the bed is large enough for two.” Sherlock finally replied and John’s smile could have lit up the entire airport.


End file.
